


tech noir

by Nori



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Gen, I have more plot for this idea but I'm out of writing shape and this is all I have right now, M/M, Pre-Slash, but I've run out of steam so it'll be coming along in the next half of this little thing, the destiel stuff isn't even in this part
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 01:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18539710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nori/pseuds/Nori
Summary: The auto-turret locks on as he skids into cover behind a row of Jersey barriers, just barely escaping another onslaught of bullets. The concrete shatters under the impact, sending chips flying and creating a choking cloud of dust.“Christ, how did this become my life,” Dean laments.





	tech noir

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t written anything in over a year and I’ve certainly never written anything for spn before, but anyway here’s a snippet I guess. Sort of a cyberpunk AU, pretty heavily inspired by Shadowrun. I've got more for this snippet and I have a much larger plot vaguely planned out for this little idea. So if you like this (???) please yell at me to continue. Just keep yelling until I actually do it lol. 
> 
> I've just gotten back into Supernatural after an 8 year hiatus. So uh. Hi please be gentle I'm doing my best thaaank you

The auto-turret locks on as he skids into cover behind a row of Jersey barriers, just barely escaping another onslaught of bullets. The concrete shatters under the impact, sending chips flying and creating a choking cloud of dust. Dean grimaces, flexing his aching fingers around the grip of his autopistol. 

“Christ, how did this become my life,” Dean laments under his breath, before switching open his comms with his internal rig. **_Can I get a little friggin’ help here?_** The thought, unfiltered and frantic, pours out of his brain and directly across the secure link Cas is holding open. 

**_I’m TRYING_** , Sam snaps instantly, harried voice cutting directly into Dean’s head, echoing like Dean’s skull is hollow. It doesn’t matter that Cas has been running with them for months, Dean will never get used to his freaky brain radio. **_This asshole does not know when to stay down_**. 

**_You good, Sam?_** If he weren’t about to be turned to tomato paste, he might be embarrassed by the sharp fear in his stupid mind voice. He sinks to his belly, slithering across the damp asphalt to the far edge of his Jersey barrier. 

**_Fine,_** Sam replies, with something like a mental grunt. **_Just busy._**

Awash with relief, Dean pokes his head out to peek up at the auto-turret still determinedly trying to blow a hole into his cover. For a moment, the rotating barrel stutters, before turning sharply toward him and spooling up again. Dean scrambles back into hiding. 

**_Cas?_** Dean tries hopefully, **_You got anything?_** He closes his eyes, sinking into his internal rigging and following the bright, hot trail of energy that connects him to Baby. The tether stretches like hot taffy, thinning down to a thread so narrow, Dean can’t follow it. Fuck, still out of range. Cas, he snarls, lip curling as if he’s spoken aloud, kinda need you here, buddy. 

**_Oh, I’m sorry,_** Cas retorts, sarcasm and strain combining to weigh his already deep voice down even further. **_I wasn’t aware you couldn’t handle A SINGLE AUTO-TURRET._**

Dean scowls, jaw clenching at the jab. A quick scan of his surroundings nets him the same results as before: a big empty parking lot, a skeevy office building looming behind him, and an ancient, rusting excavator slowly digging roots into the earth. Heaving a sigh, Dean drops into his rigging, and scans for the tractor’s signature in the matrix. The tether to Baby is practically blinding, and Dean has to force himself to dig through the virtual wasteland to find the unappealing rust bucket’s signal instead. 

“C’mon on you old bastard,” Dean grumbles absently as his awareness flows over and through the machine. He wills air into the combustion chamber and guides the busted engine through the compression process. At the top of the compression stroke, he forces the engine to inject a blast of fuel, and under his guiding influence, the old hunk of shit coughs to life. 

Whooping with triumph, Dean splits his awareness between the real world and the new tether he’s created. **_Nevermind, I’m a genius,_** he informs his captive audience, urging the excavator’s tracks to start rotating. 

**_So you’re good with the turret?_** Sam asks, followed closely by Cas’ dry, **_And here I was so concerned about you._**

**Author's Note:**

> X-posted on [my tumblr](https://hrimthur.tumblr.com/post/184329829468/i-havent-written-anything-in-over-a-year-and-ive)


End file.
